They had visited nearly every day since then. Last night was their anniversary, and after weeks of living between home and the hospital, they finally went out for dinner.
My mother had suffered a seizure.
Yet they had spent the entire meal watching Thomas’s phone, a habit they had acquired while waiting for news about the nameless woman they refused to abandon.
Then the hospital called.
My mother had suffered a seizure.
“We didn’t think about the check,” Thomas said. “We hardly thought about the car. We just needed to get here.”
The anger inside me loosened, leaving shame behind.
“You stayed with her all this time?”
Margaret looked toward the bed. “We kept hoping someone would come looking for her.”
“I did,” I whispered. “I never stopped.”
